Serenity Stan, We Hardly Knew Ye

I got a note the other day from Serenity Stan relating an incident in his family that placed him squarely between two people who weren't behaving all that well. Not that Stan behaves all that well himself but that's a topic for another discussion. I probably shouldn't be sharing this story without first checking with Serenity Stan (heretofore to be referred to as S.S. or "the plaintiff") but that's the beauty of semi-anonymous blogging. You can behave in a semi-principled manner, which would be a big upgrade from the barely-principled manner that is my normal method of operation. Not that Stan is his real name or that he has any serenity at all or that anyone outside of his very small group of friends cares anything about him, it's just that it's the principle of the thing.

One of the best reasons for talking regularly with people who haven't been sober as long as I have is that I get to pretend that I know what I'm talking about. And I can give advice that isn't very good to people who don't believe what I'm saying and wouldn't do what I suggest even if they did. It makes me feel older and wiser, even though I'm basically older and not that much wiser. Getting old means that you've done almost every stupid thing at least twice and can explain how painful the consequences were to the person who is not listening to you and probably isn't savvy enough to pick up on the moral of the story. Not that he would act on the moral of the story anyway, which is how it should be. We all have earned the right to behave stupidly and learn hard lessons from severe consequences. It's what separates us from the animals, after all. Except for cats who apparently have a propensity for sitting on hot stoves from time to time.

S.S. was a champ, by the way. He wrote down all of the things that he wanted to say to the misbehavers, then burned the note, ate the ashes, and buried his scat in the backyard, thus saving himself a lot of additional pain. We got to console and irritate each other with the phrase: "You're the one with the Program." We got to remind each other that, as sick people ourselves, we do well to remember that there are a lot of other sick people in the world. Alcoholics don't have the market cornered on sick, although we do a good job of merchandising it.

"When a person offended we said to ourselves: 'This is a sick man. How can I be helpful to him? God save me from being angry. Thy will be done.' "